


coming back to you

by aloneintherain



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Rescue, Reunions, din wants his baby back and nothing is going to stop him, post-episode 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27957926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloneintherain/pseuds/aloneintherain
Summary: Din crossed the room in three strides and swept his kid into his arms, pressing in his little face into the hollow of his throat. Grogu babbled frantically up at him. His clawed hands scrambled for Din’s shirt, trying to latch onto him even though his wrists were handcuffed together.“I’m here,” Din said, voice shaking. “I’m here, Grogu. Buir is here.”Or: Din gets his baby back.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu
Comments: 45
Kudos: 1100





	coming back to you

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone else destroyed by episode 13? I’m going to warp through the screen and beat the shit out of Moff Gideon if Din doesn’t reunite with his baby next episode 
> 
> Not beta read so all mistakes are my own. I’ll try and go through this again with a fresh eye tomorrow night, I swear I always find twice as many mistakes after I upload to ao3. But feel free to point out typos if you catch them.

Alarms bleared through the ship, drowning out the sound of blaster fire. Din’s ears were ringing. Unfortunately though he could still hear Mayfield over the coms, cursing them all out.

Boba Fetta interrupted Mayfield’s swearing: “Mando, have you located the child?”

“Not yet,” he said.

He took a wrong turn and almost ran into a squadron of stormtroopers. He spun sharply on his heel and sprinted back the way he came, wincing at the few lucky shots that glanced off his amour. It hurt more than usual. His skin was either deeply bruised or bleeding beneath the beskar.

After they’d boarded, the fighting had been brutal. Din was honestly surprised that they were all still alive. He wasn’t in one piece, though: something in his shoulder felt as though it was fractured. His side too. And maybe his hip. It was getting hard to keep track of all the injuries he had sustained.

But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Not when Grogu was somewhere on this spaceship, alone and probably terrified, waiting for Din to rescue him.

“Another squadron coming your way,” said Fennec Shand over the coms. “I couldn’t hold them off.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mayfeild’s voice was high and cracked through with static. “ _Another_ squad? We have to retreat, we’re going to be gunned down.”

“No, stay where you are,” Din said, ducking into a connecting hallway. “You agreed to this, Mayfield. We had a deal.”

“I didn’t agree to die for you, Mando!”

“Mayfield, I will be there soon,” Boba Fett said. “Mando, will you be alright on your own?”

Din dashed around another corner and took a sharp turn into a console room. It was manned with only one officer, who was frantically bashing at the controls. Din took her out before she even turned around.

He scanned the screens on the console. He could see Mayfield and Fennec Shand pinned down several floors down, Boba Fett slicing through hoards of stormtroopers, and rows and rows of cells of unknown prisoners.

And there, just a blip on the screen, was his kid. Alone in a too-big cell, but still alive.

“Mando?” Boba Fett called over the coms. “Do you need me to come up there?”

Din scanned the screens. There were more stormtroopers heading his way. He couldn’t go back into the hallway.

He’d just have to go another way.

He blasted open the vent and threw the plate behind the console. Stormtroopers weren’t the brightest, and the vent was tucked high-up and towards the corner. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice it had been busted open.

He wiggled into the vent. Pain rocketed up his left side, from his fucked up hip to his most-likely-broken shoulder. He paused, breathing heavily.

“Mando?” Boba Fett called again.

Grogu was alone in a cell, he reminded himself. He was nearby. He was waiting for Din to come for him.

“I’m okay,” Din managed through gritted teeth. “Just focus on clearing a path back to our ship.”

And then he began to crawl.

* * *

It was stifling hot inside the vents. Din had to stop several times to crack his helmet up past his mouth and just breathe.

He had to keep going though. He couldn’t stop now, no matter what happened.

Grogu was older than him. How many years had he spent in the hands of bounty hunters? It sounded as though the order of Jedi had been wiped out years ago. How long had it been before someone had taken care of the kid?

Din wouldn’t let Grogu be alone in the hands of monsters. Not again. Not while he was still breathing.

Finally, he peered through the slats in a vent seal and spotted Grogu. Din wriggled his blaster free from his belt, and blew the vent open. He threw himself through the hole, landing unsteadily in the cell.

The cell was large and empty. There were dents and blaster-marks scorched on the walls, and red blood smeared on the floor. Thankfully Grogu’s blood wasn’t that colour, but whatever gruesome fight had happened here, it must have been because the kid was scared out of his mind.

He didn’t have time to process the bottomless rage that rushed up his throat at the thought. Because huddled in the far corner, tiny handcuffs locked around his wrists, was Grogu.

“Grogu,” Din murmured, stepping closer. “Kid?”

The kid looked up blearily. He let out a sharp cry when he saw Din and struggled to stand.

Din crossed the room in three strides and swept his kid into his arms, pressing in his little face into the hollow of his throat. Grogu babbled frantically up at him. His clawed hands scrambled for Din’s shirt, trying to latch onto him even though his wrists were handcuffed together.

“I’m here,” Din said, voice shaking. “I’m here, Grogu. _Buir_ is here.”

Grogu’s voice grew higher in pitch and volume until it was a desperate wail that made Din’s throat burn. He buried into Din’s chest, squirming like he wanted nothing more than to get closer but couldn’t physically manage it.

Din de-pressurised his helmet. He couldn’t risk taking it off fully, not here, but he pushed it up just enough that he could press his chin and mouth to Grogu’s forehead, feeling his delicate, wrinkled skin beneath his lips.

“I’m here,” he said again.

Din placed a thoughtless kiss on top of his head, and Grogu’s voice dropped to a soft coo. Din laughed, lightheaded, and did it again. Grogu made a joyful sound, the same little noise he made when he saw a frog or grasped his metal ball, so Din did it again and again until he tasted salt and he realised his tears had slid down to his chin.

He wanted to apologise to the kid. Wanted to promise he would never let anyone take him again, even though he didn’t know if that was a vow he could keep.

So instead he said, “I missed you.”

Grogu touched his chin. He didn’t need words to tell Din he had missed him too.

Din drew in a shaky breath and shoved his helmet back on fully. Blaster-fire was still echoing faintly through the ship. They didn’t have time for this.

“Come on,” Din said, tucking Grogu protectively against his chest. “Let’s get you out of here.”

* * *

They almost didn’t survive the journey back to the ship. Din held Grogu against his side, out of the way of blaster fire. His body ached with every step, but the way the kid curled into him, little claws clutching Din’s gloved fingers, gave him the energy he needed to keep going.

By the time they made it back to Boba Fett’s ship, Grogu had knocked over several dozen stormtroopers and Din had lost count of the soldiers he’d downed. They were half-deaf from blaster-fire, and Din was now positive something in his shoulder was broken, but.

But they were alive, and Grogu was by Din’s side once again.

Din stayed hyper-alert long enough to make sure they all made it out alive. He checked in briefly with Boba Fett, who tried to tell him to get patched up. He ignored him. That would require putting the kid down, and they would have to shoot him before he did that.

Din stumbled into the far corner of the cockpit and half-collapsed between several crates of weapons.

Grogu cooed softly up at him. Din hefted him further up his arms, until the kid was leaning against his neck, little legs pressed into his collarbone to keep himself steady.

Din blinked sluggishly. Grogu pressed a claw against his visor. His eyes were so very big.

And then he said, “ _Buir_.”

Din laughed, a sound so abrupt and guttural it almost sounded like a sob. “Yeah, Grogu. Your _Buir_ is here.”

It didn’t take long for the kid to fall asleep, curled up on Din’s chest. He must’ve been exhausted.

Din huddled further into this secure corner, and cradled Grogu to his chest. His body ached and he was running on several days without sleep, but he couldn’t bring himself to sleep. So he just shuffled deeper into the corner and stared at his baby, sleeping safe in his arms where he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Buir_ is Mandalorian for parent. Yes, I absolutely got that from other writers on ao3. I love y’all so much.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [captainkirkk](http://captainkirkk.tumblr.com/).


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